Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings. It belongs to J.R.R.
Tolkien
Author's Note:
Let's see... according to the labels, it's been over two months since I've updated this story. Hmm... now what does that tell you about me? (Oni: That you're a lazy bum.) Hai. That's one. (Narc: That you've got too much stuff to do?) Ja, that's another one. (Oni: That you're too unsure and unconfident and STOOPID to write anything else.) And that is also a major factor.
Anoo....! Well, I finally updated! Thank you so much for actually coming back to read it after such a long time! (if anyone is actually reading this...) And I have a start for the next chapter. Please read through and enjoy! I have additional footnotes at the bottom.
Chapter title actually came from Megatokyo - the greatest webcomic that ever existed ever.
-naheka
WIND AND FIRE
Chapter 7 - This Sorrow Becomes Me
Monday provided a large amount of work throughout the entire day, especially for the new cook, whose presence had been acknowledged throughout a wide portion of Bree. Customers came flooding in, eager to taste the food of the curious employee. The uneducated ones were anticipating the coming of an elf from lands across the Misty Mountains, or from across the sea in the west. When they came into the Red Ivy Inn, their eyes were wide and open, searching for a fair being who walked so lightly on their toes and had a song in their graceful voices. Aoreth was often mistaken for said being, and she took it with a stumbling giggle.
At one point, Oni did leave the kitchen and crossed the main eating deck filled with customers. The loo was on the other side of the building, and if he did not answer it's call, he would surely... be in much agony. So he quickly walked out of the swinging kitchen doors, only to immediately be met by a large crowd of young elf-hunters. They saw his pale skin and the dark rings around his eyes, and the shiny, long black hair that was tied back and nearly hung to his knees. What they couldn't see, or refused to see, was the glare he gave them for staring so rudely. Yes, lengthy hair got in the way, but it distinguished pride in his family, which, for Oni, was very hard to come by.
"He hasn't got pointy ears," sighed a young boy who was in the crowd of onlookers.
"He's using his elf magic to trick us," snapped a girl with muddy streaks on the side of her face.
Then, one of the older waitresses stepped into the scene. She whipped out her wiping rag and screeched at them, "Clear off! You children are being very rude! Go on now!" She waved her rag fiercely at them, like a tamer would towards a lion. The young commoners slowly trudged out of the bar, looking harassed and disappointed. "Clear off! There be nothing to see here!"
Later, customers were disturbed by a light banging on the walls. Oni needed a method of releasing his stress, so he privately hit his head repeatedly on the outhouse walls. When he came out, he looked relieved, but still rather gruff.
However, the real action did not occur until four o' clock after midday. Business was still running high, but since it was after the main lunch hours, the other cooks allowed Oni to take a break from his long shift. This meant that it was time for an early dinner. He had another shift at around ten o' clock, and in the meantime would rest and tend to cleaning up major spills. Lunch was toast for Oni. No butter or jam or anything fancy to go on the side. Simply plain toast. It was the only thing that ever really satisfied him at the moment. What he really needed to concentrate on... was the frivolous task that he had received the previous night: cut the hair of a maiden, and hand the lock over to spin into gold. A child's tale it might've seemed in the eyes of an average person, but it was simple and crucial business in Oni's culture. That was one of the reasons why long hair meant pride, because long hair could also mean wealth.
Oni looked up over a cup of plain tea as he sat in the furthest corner of the eating deck. The layout of the deck was a simple, organized one: four rows of round tables, five tables in each row. This took up the center portion of the deck. If one looked at it from the kitchen doors, the stairs that led up to the inn rooms would be in the far left corner, directly across from the entry way. The bar took up a short, rectangular section of the bottom right corner, and partially served as the information desk. Waiters and waitresses criss-crossed through the tables and came up and down from the guest rooms. Then there were customers walking back and forth from their table to the bar and from their table to the entrance or the guest rooms. It was perfectly busy. Perfectly.
This was the true art of Oni's making. Though he specialized in cooking, he was also a skilled pocket-picker, meaning that he was talented with wreaking havoc in an extremely subtle manner. Oni stood up. In his deep apron pocket, there was a sheet of leather, and in that leather was a medium-sized sharpened knife, and a long, duller knife. The medium blade itself was crisp and fresh, but everything apart from it was dull and smudged. The long knife was glimmering until the very tip. Then aside from these objects, there was a wiping rag, one that he was required to carry around for his job as a janitor.
The deck layout provided a very busy intersection, occupied by several busy maidens. He could choose any one of them, as long as he worked carefully. Oni inhaled, then casually walked forward, pulling the rag out as he went.
In the chatter of customers to servants, he fingered the handle of the medium sized knife, but pulled the rag out of his pocket, grasping it loosely in his right hand. He passed through the intersection. Out came the medium knife, covered by the rag. He let his hand slip gently, swiftly dragging the blade across someone's section of long, shiny black hair. The smudged knife caught no light from above, so as the glimmer would not attract any attention. Within seconds, the medium knife and the hair were safely inside the leather in his apron, and the long knife was unsheathed, and secretly inserted into another waitress' apron pocket. Exhaling, Oni exited the intersection and started to head up the stairs.
---
When Oni opened his door again at ten o' clock that night, he found a wistful looking Narcissus sitting beside the door hinge. The dark spots under her eyes were more noticeable than ever, and in her left hand was a half empty brandy bottle. She had evidently been drinking, Oni concluded as he propped the obedient girl up against the wall. It took a little effort to yank the liquor bottle out of her hands, but eventually got a free hold of it and dropped it out of the hall window. He wrung his hands at the feel of a bottle touched by a person that was actually drunk. How sad that it came from such a young figure.
Oni sat down on the ground in front of her and crossed his legs. "What's wrong with you?" he drawled.
Narcissus stared drunkenly at him for a moment, blinking slowly and gently. Then she sobbed, "Everything. I'm a good fer nuthin' kid who can make 'nimies quicker than friends." No tears came out of her pale eyes. "And it's all useless. I wanna go away ferever."
Oni stared blankly at her, but shortly evaluated another method of asserting the conflict. After pushing the door open once more, he hoisted her up by the shoulders and dragged her inside. Taking an immediate right, he left her on a wooden chair next to the window. Oni sat on the floor again before her and said, "I heard Harad was a sunnier place than this.... Why do you want to go away?"
Her left hand clenched for a moment as if wondering where her brandy suddenly disappeared to, then croaked, "It's Aoreth. Somehow her hair got cut all funny and she found me with a kitchen knife five minutes later. It's been 'bout six hours since then but all the ladies have been looking at me like I'm the most indecent thing that ever existed in this bar."
"At least in the bar and not in the world."
"Fine. In the whole world then." She slumped deeper into the chair, her head lolling forward drowsily onto her chest.
Oni stared at her quietly. "You don't know how big the world is." She didn't reply, but he could imagine her saying, "No, I don't." "So you can't say that you're the worst in the world." "And how'd you know?" "I have had my fair share of traveling."
Then he blinked. What was this? Why was he suddenly questioning and pouring out... sentimentality for this strange little girl? On second thought, he couldn't blame her. After all, it was he who apparently accidentally framed her for the "crime" of "tarnishing" Aoreth's "perfect" hair. Oni didn't want to do it. His father made him do it. His father was probably also drunk when he told him to do it. Oni stared at Narcissus' cringing left hand, longing for more alcohol.
"How much did you drink?"
"That was.... my second--third drinkee...."
She almost fell out of the chair. Oni had to grab her arms again to keep her from falling. When he pulled her chin up, he realized that she was in a drunken sleep. She would have a hangover in the morning. He sighed and yawned. Narcissus snored.
There was a strange tugging pressure at the corners of his thin face as he took an extra sheet from the bed and threw it over her shoulders. She continued to sleep on. Meanwhile, Oni took the other sheet and wrapped it around himself. He sat down against the wall by her chair, and bowed his head. What was once meditation quickly fell into slumber.
---
It was seven o' clock Tuesday morning when there was a knock at the door. Taking advantage of the unlocked door, the visitor quietly stepped in to look for the missing waiter and cook, hoping not for the worst.
Oni's eyes flashed open at the click of the lock, but relaxed once he saw Aoreth poke her head through the door. "Narcissus?" she said softly, her eyes traveling to the prone girl in the chair and the clump of sheets beside her. "Oni. How has she been--"
"Will you go away?" he scowled quietly.
There was a point of direct eye contact between them. The short moment seemed like a long instance before Aoreth nodded and gently stepped back into the hallway. She closed the door and that was the last of Aoreth that Oni ever wanted to see.
Again, chapter title actually came from Megatokyo - the greatest webcomic that ever existed ever. Yes, I meant to repeat "ever" twice. I'm not getting that dull.
For those anticipating an update on "The Line", I gladly inform you that about 1/4 of the chapter has been completed! Please, if there is anyone willing to join the cast, especially those who have participated in the past, please send me an e-mail about it. Do not send a review - avoid discussion of this topic in the Review System as in accordance to regulations - miscellaneous notices should not be made on the review board.
Thank you very much and Happy Lent/Easter!
Author's Note:
Let's see... according to the labels, it's been over two months since I've updated this story. Hmm... now what does that tell you about me? (Oni: That you're a lazy bum.) Hai. That's one. (Narc: That you've got too much stuff to do?) Ja, that's another one. (Oni: That you're too unsure and unconfident and STOOPID to write anything else.) And that is also a major factor.
Anoo....! Well, I finally updated! Thank you so much for actually coming back to read it after such a long time! (if anyone is actually reading this...) And I have a start for the next chapter. Please read through and enjoy! I have additional footnotes at the bottom.
Chapter title actually came from Megatokyo - the greatest webcomic that ever existed ever.
-naheka
WIND AND FIRE
Chapter 7 - This Sorrow Becomes Me
Monday provided a large amount of work throughout the entire day, especially for the new cook, whose presence had been acknowledged throughout a wide portion of Bree. Customers came flooding in, eager to taste the food of the curious employee. The uneducated ones were anticipating the coming of an elf from lands across the Misty Mountains, or from across the sea in the west. When they came into the Red Ivy Inn, their eyes were wide and open, searching for a fair being who walked so lightly on their toes and had a song in their graceful voices. Aoreth was often mistaken for said being, and she took it with a stumbling giggle.
At one point, Oni did leave the kitchen and crossed the main eating deck filled with customers. The loo was on the other side of the building, and if he did not answer it's call, he would surely... be in much agony. So he quickly walked out of the swinging kitchen doors, only to immediately be met by a large crowd of young elf-hunters. They saw his pale skin and the dark rings around his eyes, and the shiny, long black hair that was tied back and nearly hung to his knees. What they couldn't see, or refused to see, was the glare he gave them for staring so rudely. Yes, lengthy hair got in the way, but it distinguished pride in his family, which, for Oni, was very hard to come by.
"He hasn't got pointy ears," sighed a young boy who was in the crowd of onlookers.
"He's using his elf magic to trick us," snapped a girl with muddy streaks on the side of her face.
Then, one of the older waitresses stepped into the scene. She whipped out her wiping rag and screeched at them, "Clear off! You children are being very rude! Go on now!" She waved her rag fiercely at them, like a tamer would towards a lion. The young commoners slowly trudged out of the bar, looking harassed and disappointed. "Clear off! There be nothing to see here!"
Later, customers were disturbed by a light banging on the walls. Oni needed a method of releasing his stress, so he privately hit his head repeatedly on the outhouse walls. When he came out, he looked relieved, but still rather gruff.
However, the real action did not occur until four o' clock after midday. Business was still running high, but since it was after the main lunch hours, the other cooks allowed Oni to take a break from his long shift. This meant that it was time for an early dinner. He had another shift at around ten o' clock, and in the meantime would rest and tend to cleaning up major spills. Lunch was toast for Oni. No butter or jam or anything fancy to go on the side. Simply plain toast. It was the only thing that ever really satisfied him at the moment. What he really needed to concentrate on... was the frivolous task that he had received the previous night: cut the hair of a maiden, and hand the lock over to spin into gold. A child's tale it might've seemed in the eyes of an average person, but it was simple and crucial business in Oni's culture. That was one of the reasons why long hair meant pride, because long hair could also mean wealth.
Oni looked up over a cup of plain tea as he sat in the furthest corner of the eating deck. The layout of the deck was a simple, organized one: four rows of round tables, five tables in each row. This took up the center portion of the deck. If one looked at it from the kitchen doors, the stairs that led up to the inn rooms would be in the far left corner, directly across from the entry way. The bar took up a short, rectangular section of the bottom right corner, and partially served as the information desk. Waiters and waitresses criss-crossed through the tables and came up and down from the guest rooms. Then there were customers walking back and forth from their table to the bar and from their table to the entrance or the guest rooms. It was perfectly busy. Perfectly.
This was the true art of Oni's making. Though he specialized in cooking, he was also a skilled pocket-picker, meaning that he was talented with wreaking havoc in an extremely subtle manner. Oni stood up. In his deep apron pocket, there was a sheet of leather, and in that leather was a medium-sized sharpened knife, and a long, duller knife. The medium blade itself was crisp and fresh, but everything apart from it was dull and smudged. The long knife was glimmering until the very tip. Then aside from these objects, there was a wiping rag, one that he was required to carry around for his job as a janitor.
The deck layout provided a very busy intersection, occupied by several busy maidens. He could choose any one of them, as long as he worked carefully. Oni inhaled, then casually walked forward, pulling the rag out as he went.
In the chatter of customers to servants, he fingered the handle of the medium sized knife, but pulled the rag out of his pocket, grasping it loosely in his right hand. He passed through the intersection. Out came the medium knife, covered by the rag. He let his hand slip gently, swiftly dragging the blade across someone's section of long, shiny black hair. The smudged knife caught no light from above, so as the glimmer would not attract any attention. Within seconds, the medium knife and the hair were safely inside the leather in his apron, and the long knife was unsheathed, and secretly inserted into another waitress' apron pocket. Exhaling, Oni exited the intersection and started to head up the stairs.
---
When Oni opened his door again at ten o' clock that night, he found a wistful looking Narcissus sitting beside the door hinge. The dark spots under her eyes were more noticeable than ever, and in her left hand was a half empty brandy bottle. She had evidently been drinking, Oni concluded as he propped the obedient girl up against the wall. It took a little effort to yank the liquor bottle out of her hands, but eventually got a free hold of it and dropped it out of the hall window. He wrung his hands at the feel of a bottle touched by a person that was actually drunk. How sad that it came from such a young figure.
Oni sat down on the ground in front of her and crossed his legs. "What's wrong with you?" he drawled.
Narcissus stared drunkenly at him for a moment, blinking slowly and gently. Then she sobbed, "Everything. I'm a good fer nuthin' kid who can make 'nimies quicker than friends." No tears came out of her pale eyes. "And it's all useless. I wanna go away ferever."
Oni stared blankly at her, but shortly evaluated another method of asserting the conflict. After pushing the door open once more, he hoisted her up by the shoulders and dragged her inside. Taking an immediate right, he left her on a wooden chair next to the window. Oni sat on the floor again before her and said, "I heard Harad was a sunnier place than this.... Why do you want to go away?"
Her left hand clenched for a moment as if wondering where her brandy suddenly disappeared to, then croaked, "It's Aoreth. Somehow her hair got cut all funny and she found me with a kitchen knife five minutes later. It's been 'bout six hours since then but all the ladies have been looking at me like I'm the most indecent thing that ever existed in this bar."
"At least in the bar and not in the world."
"Fine. In the whole world then." She slumped deeper into the chair, her head lolling forward drowsily onto her chest.
Oni stared at her quietly. "You don't know how big the world is." She didn't reply, but he could imagine her saying, "No, I don't." "So you can't say that you're the worst in the world." "And how'd you know?" "I have had my fair share of traveling."
Then he blinked. What was this? Why was he suddenly questioning and pouring out... sentimentality for this strange little girl? On second thought, he couldn't blame her. After all, it was he who apparently accidentally framed her for the "crime" of "tarnishing" Aoreth's "perfect" hair. Oni didn't want to do it. His father made him do it. His father was probably also drunk when he told him to do it. Oni stared at Narcissus' cringing left hand, longing for more alcohol.
"How much did you drink?"
"That was.... my second--third drinkee...."
She almost fell out of the chair. Oni had to grab her arms again to keep her from falling. When he pulled her chin up, he realized that she was in a drunken sleep. She would have a hangover in the morning. He sighed and yawned. Narcissus snored.
There was a strange tugging pressure at the corners of his thin face as he took an extra sheet from the bed and threw it over her shoulders. She continued to sleep on. Meanwhile, Oni took the other sheet and wrapped it around himself. He sat down against the wall by her chair, and bowed his head. What was once meditation quickly fell into slumber.
---
It was seven o' clock Tuesday morning when there was a knock at the door. Taking advantage of the unlocked door, the visitor quietly stepped in to look for the missing waiter and cook, hoping not for the worst.
Oni's eyes flashed open at the click of the lock, but relaxed once he saw Aoreth poke her head through the door. "Narcissus?" she said softly, her eyes traveling to the prone girl in the chair and the clump of sheets beside her. "Oni. How has she been--"
"Will you go away?" he scowled quietly.
There was a point of direct eye contact between them. The short moment seemed like a long instance before Aoreth nodded and gently stepped back into the hallway. She closed the door and that was the last of Aoreth that Oni ever wanted to see.
Again, chapter title actually came from Megatokyo - the greatest webcomic that ever existed ever. Yes, I meant to repeat "ever" twice. I'm not getting that dull.
For those anticipating an update on "The Line", I gladly inform you that about 1/4 of the chapter has been completed! Please, if there is anyone willing to join the cast, especially those who have participated in the past, please send me an e-mail about it. Do not send a review - avoid discussion of this topic in the Review System as in accordance to regulations - miscellaneous notices should not be made on the review board.
Thank you very much and Happy Lent/Easter!